All I Wanted
by Justabibliophile
Summary: What led Merope Gaunt to give that love potion to Tom Riddle, and what happened after?
1. Extricated

**This one'll be about six chapters. Rated T for themes of physical abuse.**

 **Note: This story is not meant to justify Merope's actions. It is only trying to explain them**

* * *

They were gone.

Merope Gaunt stood in front of the door. Numb vibrations were running through her skin as she faced the door to the house she'd lived in for years. The house that was now completely empty. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

Dry tendrils of hair stuck to her sweaty, withered skin as she reached out towards the door. The dead snake attached to the door hit her against with its smell. A smell she'd grown accustomed to every time she'd had to clean the front yard. But she wouldn't have to clean it anymore. She could leave now.

Shaking, she entered the shack.

The familiar room did not give her a trickle of nostalgia, but a lump of dread. She rarely ever left the house before, but it still steeled her nerves whenever she entered. The filthy armchair Morfin often sat in, the insects scattering against the floor that she was always forced to clean. The patches of dry scarlet from whenever Marvolo got angry at her.

There were new additions too. The shattered remnants of the pot she'd so desperately tried to pick up after the harrowing visit from the Ministry official. There was the wall she'd been slammed into when she'd nearly been strangled. Jagged marks from the scuffle between the authorities and Marvolo and Morfin.

The whole occurrence seemed like something from a far off dream. Or maybe it was a far off nightmare. When Morfin had refused to be taken by the Ministry officials. The fight that followed. When he finally revealed her feelings for Tom.

 _Tom._ So Morfin had seen her watching him from the window after all? He'd spotted the deep yearning in her eyes. She'd tried her best to keep it a secret, cautiously sneaking out after finishing her chores to see him riding through town. And he had _hexed_ him. Merlin…

She remembered when the Ministry official apparated out and Marvolo and Morfin circled around her. Even after years, she never got used to it. Even when though it happened nearly every day. The pain, the beatings, the feeling of a thousand swords stabbing into her skin. Marvolo shouting, " _Pathetic! Disgusting! Filthy little Squib!_ " Morfin's taunting laughter…

Yet she had never seen them this angry before. Staring at her as if she was a curse from the enemy. And her sitting, completely helpless… For a second, one long second, Merope was convinced they were going to kill her. And it didn't upset her as much as it should have. She was more frightened of how it was going to happen.

But now, Marvolo and Morfin were being carted away to a trial. They'd probably be sent straight to Azkaban, the very place they'd always threatened to send her to if she didn't get her work done.

 _Azkaban._ Whether that was where they went to or not, it didn't change the fact that they were no longer here. She'd been reassured again and again by the Ministry officials that she wouldn't see them for months or even years. That she was welcome to leave the dingy old shack if she wanted to.

"No." The word was a cracked quiver rolling of her tongue. A word she hadn't even planned to say. It had just come out because _no._ No, no, no. This was all wrong. Her entire life had been dictated by what Marvolo and Morfin told her. Without them, what was she to do? How would she be able to get up in the morning without a list of chores to follow? How was she going to do anything? No, no, this was all wrong.

Or was it right?

A crimson scar peeked up at her from the top of her arm. For at least a few months, she'd never have to worry about getting one again. The list of chores she never enjoyed doing. She just did them because she knew Marvolo and Morfin would punish her harshly if she didn't. But now, they weren't here to do anything.

The house was empty. The house was completely empty except for her. For the first time in her life, she was free.

* * *

Upon opening her eyes to the rusty ceiling, Merope completely forgot about the night before. She got up, massaged her aching back, and prepared for cooking the meal for today. Going over her usual list of reminders to stay quiet. They were almost engraved in her mind now. Walking over to the tiny kitchen when she was hit by the startling silence coming from the other rooms.

Gone. They were gone.

Merope's mind was never particularly creative-Marvolo and Morfin made sure of it-so it wasn't a surprise when she simply decided to go on with the day's work. She needed to eat and she didn't want to live in a complete mess. She went on with her cooking, her ears instinctively trying to block out the sounds of voices that were no longer there.

She was interrupted by a deafening clatter. She had dropped a pot. Immediately, every bone in her body turned into stone as her brain went through the familiar frenzy of fight or flight when…there were no shouts. No haste to clean up her mistakes.

Slowly, Merope took her wand out and pointed it at the broken pot. " _Reparo._ "

She expected the pot to rocket off against the wall and shatter like it always did. But instead, a sudden thrill sprouted and seeped through her skin. The pieces of the pot reattached.

She had done a spell.

Merope nearly dropped her wand at the realization, knees shaking from the sudden influx of joy that spread through her. She had successfully done a spell. But _how?_ She had never done so before. There were times when she almost believed what she was told every day. That she was nothing more than a filthy Squib.

But no, she had done it. She had done magic.

* * *

While before her days were long and dreary, life had quickly sped up in the now one-person Gaunt household. Merope tried even more simple spells and besides the occasional blunder, they all worked perfectly.

Before, magic had been a boulder she had to carry on her back, muscles straining from even thinking about it. It was a reminder of the disappointment she was, about the pain she experienced and was told she deserved. A chaotic beast always dying when needed and roaring when not.

But now, it was almost like a guardian animal. Longing to be free from its cage in order to protect her. Leaping up with excitement around a wand and practically yanking itself out of her fingers. A subject that was now interesting, that she was drawn to learn about.

Yes, it relieved her that it would hopefully impress Marvolo. But it was even more relieving that it impressed her.

After a day of potions work, Merope was practically stumbling through the room. Magic, however entertaining, was also exhausting. Or perhaps she just hadn't done enough of it. Maybe she could do more. Maybe she could become a master…

Or maybe Marvolo and Morfin wouldn't let her.

A new panic struck her heart. What would happen when they came back? Would this blissful fantasy be crunched in an instant? Would she lose everything she had worked so hard to attain? Would they be impressed with her at all, or would they only toss her aside like they always did?

Merope's body seemed to sag within an instant and every crumb of energy escaped her. Her legs automatically steered her towards the place they always took her when she felt like the weight of the world was crushing her shoulders. The window.

Dust particles decorated each section of the cracked glass, but often times, it was Merope's only key to the outside world. She'd try to decipher the pattern of the twisting trees. Studying the muddy landscapes. Dreaming of blades of grass.

And there he was.

Tom Riddle seemed to paint the dreary sky with sun as he rode in on horseback. He looked much better than before, having thankfully healed from Morfin's attack. Merope could feel her heart swell like it always did around him. He was the only light in her life.

Merope's heart hammered in her head. On top of the usual joy that accompanied her when she saw him, she was even more pleased to find that he was alone. That girl, Cecilia, who was always with him was nowhere to be seen.

And then her eyes were on the door. Tom Riddle was right outside. There was no one to stop her from going out. Maybe he would pay attention to her…

Without thinking, Merope Gaunt headed for the door.


	2. Obsession

As soon as she was out of the house, Merope felt the urge to race back and never leave. Merlin, she was going to talk to _Tom._ Would he pay her any attention? He, like everyone else in Little Hangleton, had to be creeped out by the dreary Gaunt house in the corner of the neighborhood that no sane person entered.

She tried to take a deep breath to help, but the air was bitter and did nothing to calm her lungs. She instead resorted to smoothing out her dress. It was her best one, which wasn't to say much. Perhaps Tom would find the unconventional design appealing.

Merope finally approached the grassy territory where he usually stayed and was greeted by the sound of stomping hooves. Or perhaps that was her own heart clobbering in her chest. Tom had climbed off his horse and was feeding it, not noticing the desperate girl walking towards him.

They were together. _Alone._ What would she say? He likely knew nothing about her, but she knew almost everything about him. Still, using that information would creep him out. Would kind of girls did Tom like? What could she say that would interest him? Was there any point to this? Were all the things Marvolo and Morfin told her about how she couldn't speak eloquently and instead sounded like a freak, right? Or did-

"Is whoever's behind me going to say something or just stand there?"

Her icy veins instantly shattered. Tom had noticed her after all. What did he think of her now? Maybe she could still save this first impression…

"Are you going to speak?" he asked impatiently, still not looking at her. That was a relief. She was anxious enough, how would she be able to function properly if she was looking directly into his eyes. His eyes…

Oh, how long had it been? This was all wrong. She'd spent her whole life in an empty, glacial world and was now suddenly in the boiling outside. Ever instinct in her body pulled her away. She should be at home, obediently doing the chores. Not talking to people. Much less _him…_

Still, she was already out here anyway. What would Tom think if she just ran off without warning? No, she needed to say something.

"I…" The words died in her throat as Tom gave a haughty sigh and faced her. He didn't say anything rude to her. He didn't need to. His eyes held a judging glint as they traveled down her body. His nostrils clenched and a shudder ripped through him. She could see the thoughts in his head written plainly on his face. He was looking for a way to get out of the conversation, just like everyone else did. Just like what Marvolo and Morfin always told her. She'd always imagined him looking at her with a tender expression. Not this.

"Tom!" A voice called, one Merope was far too scattered to put a name to. All she could think about was the way he sighed in relief. As if that mysterious voice had rescued him. From _her._

"Coming!" Tom replied. He led the horse away and left without saying goodbye.

Merope remained frozen in that spot for at least a few minutes.. As if roots had grown from the ground and held onto her feet. One side of her mind desperately cried, _Well he didn't_ say _anything. He just made an expression, and no one can help those…_

The much stronger part of her mind resisted. _Expressions show what people feel inside. And what did he feel? Pure disgust._

That was how everyone looked at her, wasn't it? Like she was a filthy insect to be crushed beneath one's shoe…

Merope slowly walked home with her head lowered, and she didn't raise it again for a long time.

* * *

As much as Merope wanted to rush outside to Tom and fall to her knees, begging for a single grain of his attention, she restrained herself. Tom was much more likely to like a girl with dignity. Though Merope has none, he didn't need to know that.

She would wander through the house, casting more spells of all kinds. She'd exploded multiple things, but no matter. She would clean them up later.

She had managed to accomplish wandless spells, something which was quite helpful in quieting down the doubts in her mind. Perhaps she could try Apparating next, though the thought was enough to drive her into her shell. Maybe she would have to wait on that…

She'd also began developing a love for potions. While with spells, any mistake could send her rocketing off to another planet, brewing potions meant that the worst that could happen was that it would erupt in her face.

Besides, when she made accidentally muttered the wrong spell, she would hear the voices of Marvolo and Morfin hissing in her head. But they never bothered her about potions. It felt private. Marvolo and Morfin has seen every tunnel of her insecurities. But potions were her own little oasis that the tidal waves they made could not touch.

Of course, all of this work on magic was nothing compared to the time Merope spent indulging in her favorite hobby: watching Tom. Hour after hour she'd gaze upon him through the tinted glass. While she let herself get caught up in his shining eyes and his brilliant hair...wait, what was she thinking? Oh, right. While those were definitely features she noticed, she was also starting to strategize.

Tom always stopped by that same empty trail, and he was usually alone. He would stay there for about ten minutes, feeding his horse. Apparently, the food was all he could keep on him, for he was always drenched with sweat and never drank any water to refresh himself. Maybe it was just too much to carry. Still, she didn't doubt he would definitely appreciate a drink of water…

Merope began to develop a plan.

* * *

 _Relax,_ she told herself. _Relax. It's just a cup of water._

It certainly didn't feel like one. To Merope, it was the weight of the world. The plan on her head was sinking before her eyes. How could something so simple have so many ways it could go wrong?

All she was going to do was offer Tom a drink of water. He'd accept it. It would become commonplace for her to give him water each day, and soon, she'd be able to start talking to him and maybe, just maybe he would start to love her…

Merope shook off the fantasy. The fairy tale romance she was envisioning all relied on one thing: her ability to hand Tom a cup of water without messing it up.

 _And how can you do that? "You mess up everything!" Marvolo screamed. "Can't do anything right," Morfin grinned. "Remember you deserve this…" Marvolo cooed before-_

A shudder hacked at Merope's throat. No time to listen to them. They were far away now. It was just her.

She came upon the familiar trail where Tom stood, panting heavily and not looking at her.

"I…" she started. Her lips were frozen.

Tom swung around to see her and scrunched his nose. "Oh...you. What are you doing out here?" _And when are you going to leave?_ Merope could sense the unspoken words.

Still, she took a deep breath. "I th-thought you m-might like a dri-drink I'd w-water."

Tom narrowed his eyes and snatched the cup. "Is it poisoned?" Merope tried to tell herself he was joking, but she was sure he meant the question genuinely. He studied the water. Merope has spent hours making sure to find the clearest, most pure water for him.

Tom downed the water in one go. "A bit bitter," he observed. "But thank you, I suppose." He had said the sentence in a very bored, throwaway manner. But he didn't notice how Merope's face lit up all the same.

From then on, it became a tradition for Merope to spend hours finding the perfect water for Tom and giving it to him after his horse rides. It was a rather silent affair, though Merope tried to convince herself that he looked genuinely interested in the questions she asked him. Even if he didn't, nothing could dim Merope's mood. Tom looking at her, speaking to her, being _around_ her… It was a gift that almost made her burst into tears when she thought of it.

Merope returned to the trail that day. Normally she kept her eyes firmly pointed downwards, but now she was starting to look up. Tom once again had his back to her as he tended to his horse.

"Hello, Tom," she greeted, her face already becoming scarlet.

"Hello," he said politely. "Water?"

"Here," she said, hanging him the cup, which he promptly drank. The silence dragged on a little longer before Merope spoke up.

"Tom… We're friends, right?"

As he looked away from her, there was no way to tell how he was really feeling. He simply said, "I suppose so."

Merope bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing. They were friends. She had a _friend._ Someone who enjoyed her company. Someone who didn't think she was a waste…

"Do…" she whispered, finding herself edging closer. "Do you think…" She was close enough to pick out ever strand of his hair. Tom turned around to look at her, his eyes wide. She didn't care about that, only how lovely their color was. "...That we could…"

"Tom!" A voice called. Out of the corner of her eye, Merope could see the striking Cecilia with a group of people behind her. "Do you need saving from this old hag?"

 _Old hag?_ Merope thought. That...that couldn't be how-

"If you want to, darling," Tom remarked. _Darling._ And not at her, but beautiful Cecilia, the envy of the town.

"She almost looked like she was about to kiss you," chimed someone beside Cecilia. "Can you imagine?"

"N...no…" Merope quivered. Was this what Tom had thought of her? Did he just believe she was a creepy old hag…

"Is she about to cry?" Cecilia asked.

"I didn't know her family had emotions," someone behind her muses.

 _No, no, stop._ But there was no stopping. It didn't matter that Tom wasn't speaking. It felt like he was taunting her right along with them.

 _Pathetic. A disgrace._

And they were all laughing at her, jagged knives that pieced into her skin. All laughing because why wouldn't they? How funny, the pitiful young woman who thought she could be loved too.

 _Filthy little Squib…_

They were all looking at her and nobody cared how she was feeling and no, no, no she couldn't take it. Merope Gaunt turned around and ran. She could still feel the jeers screaming into her back but it didn't matter, she just needed to get _away-_

She heard the splash before she felt herself slip into the mud. It clung onto her skin, and the snickers behind her swelled. There was no time to care.

She tore through the woods, finally racing back to the prison that had now become a home. Running, running, running-

Merope burst into the shack, slamming the door and immediately collapsing to her knees. Her eyes burned with humiliation, and the mud attached to her skin seemed to burying her. No matter. She wanted to be buried. She wanted to remain down there and never come back again.

Her chest heaved as hot tears cascaded down her cheeks. She could feel Marvolo and Morfin laughing at her all the way from Azkaban. Again and again, she'd told herself they were wrong about her. But it turned out they were right.

And Tom. _Tom._ If Cecilia hadn't come in with the others, maybe none of this would have happened. Tom would have told her off, but she wouldn't have hurt her, surely…

But why _did_ he have to tell her off? Why couldn't he just hold her and hug her and love her? Why did he have to push her away? Why couldn't anyone love her?

Weak energy throbbed in her body. She couldn't stay down here forever. Not that anyone would care. No one cared about her… Her legs shook as she stood up, desperately searching for one thing to cheer up. She had her magic. She'd done that successfully, at least… But was it enough? Could it ever be-

She saw it then. An open potions book she'd left earlier that day in her haste to meet Tom. Beside it, the cauldron where she always brewed potions. _Her_ potions. They'd ruined spells, they'd ruined her, but they'd never ruin her potions.

She'd been studying one of the most powerful potions in the world. The love potion. Anyone who took it would fall madly in love with the brewer. Unconditionally. They'd never leave them.

…No. No, she couldn't take away Tom's free will. She wanted him to love her naturally, just as she loved him…

"But he _did_ love me naturally," Merope murmured. Yes, she could see it now. His expression when she had come close to him was not one of confusion, but of nervousness. He'd begun feeling something for her too. The mysterious girl who brought him water every day. If Cecilia hadn't barged in at that exact moment, he would have hugged her. Maybe even kissed her.

Yes, she could see it in her mind's eye. Twisting his features to match what she wanted to see. It was just circumstances. Oh, poor Tom. He was starting to feel something for the lonely girl living in the shack, but he was afraid of it. The circumstances with his family, his obsession with his reputation, it prevented him from pursuing what he really wanted.

 _It would just be a little push,_ Merope thought as she stumbled towards the table in a bit of a daze. Just a little nudge in the right direction. Tom was drowning under the weight of his anxieties. But this would save him. He would be free to love her.

She was stirring the cauldron, unsure of when exactly she put the ingredients in. What advanced ingredients indeed. Marvolo and Morfin would be astonished. Filthy little Squib? Oh no, she was powerful. She was Merope Gaunt.

As the intoxicating fumes filled her with euphoria, Merope broke into a smile. Not only would she be proving Marvolo and Morfin wrong, but she would also be helping Tom. His life would be so much better once she gave him this. She would be his hero. And Marvolo and Morfin would forever be ashamed by the witch they had tried to suppress. She was more powerful than anyone.

She hummed serenely as she stood, working on the potions for hours on end. She never left. This was more important than anything. She entertained herself by imagining Tom. He would be so happy with her. He would love her so much for saving him from his old life. They would get a beautiful house and start a family. They would see each other each day. She'd even be able to bring him the water all the time.

Yes, this was going to work. Merope gave a victorious gasp as the swirling potion went still. She looked down at it again. Exactly what she wanted. She just needed one more ingredient…and there it was.

Amortentia.


	3. Ardency

Any common sense Merope Gaunt harbored had long since vanished. Why did she need it when she could make her dreams come true with the flick of a finger? This was much better.

She had to admit, she was still slightly fearful of seeing Tom again. She hadn't forgotten what had happened all those days ago. But it wasn't Tom's fault. After today, everything would be fixed.

The familiar rustle of the trees greeted her as she found Tom and his horse standing in the same spot.

She took a deep breath, still clutching the cup. The water was chilly enough, but mixed with a potion, Merope felt like the tips of her fingers were turning blue.

"Tom."

Immediately, he stopped moving. "You again." His voice was dry and chapped, likely from the lack of water he'd had for the last few days. Merope silently prided herself for having made an impact on his life, although she was about to make a much bigger one.

"Would you like some water?"

"Yes. More than anything." He still didn't look at her but said, "I am sorry about what happened those days ago."

Her face swelled with warmth. This was going perfectly and she hasn't even given him the potion yet.

"All is forgiven," she whispered. "Here you go." Eager to give him the potion, she thrust the cup into his hand. Bits of so-called water sloshed against the edges. It smelled just like the man standing in front of her.

Tom downed the cup. His eyes curved thoughtfully as he licked his lips. "Hmm, tastes different…"

"Does it?" Merope asked. A sun seemed to be rising inside of her, impatiently waiting for something to burn.

"Yes, like…" It looked as if the oxygen supply had been cut from his lungs. A sickly web wrapped around his skin, which lost all color. Rapid breaths came from him as he began to choke.

"T-tom?"

More coughing, more coughing, until it came to a sputtering stop. He looked like a ghost who was coming back to life.

"Tom…?"

Then he looked at her.

It was as if Morfin, Marvolo, and what they told her had never existed. And the people who had teased her and made fun of her hadn't either. No one existed except Tom and his eyes. They are glowing. As if having awoken from a torturous sleep. As if they had seen the light at the end of the tunnel.

And that was her. _She_ was the light at the end of the tunnel. Someone was looking at her as if they needed her. As if she mattered.

Water roared in her ears, so she could not hear what Tom said. But she certainly felt him take her into his arms and patting her back. A silent vow to protect her because he cared _._ He actually _cared._

Merope pressed herself against him, and the rest of the world fell away.

* * *

Merope has grown accustomed to being alone in the shack. She thought she would hate it if somebody else came by, but she had no reason to complain when it was _Tom_ that was coming by.

The euphoric grin he'd been wearing quite a lot lately was plastered on his face. He was holding a bouquet of flowers.

Someone had brought her flowers.

She nearly fainted right then and there because someone thought she was worthy of receiving such a gift.

"Thank you," she breathed. She took them from his hands and felt disappointment. There was no real place in the shack to put them. But she would find it.

"Water?" It wasn't really a question anymore. And if it was, he needed to say yes. How else could she give him the potion and keep him happy with her?

"Yes, yes, yes. Thank you, Merope."

He said her name every time he could, and is still sent goosebumps spiraling down her skin to hear it from him. The way he said it, it sounded like he worshipped her. Merope sometimes felt like he did with the way he showered her in compliments. He was one step away from praying to her.

Merope handed him the cup, as she did nearly every day. He always came to her house now. Sometimes he'd watch her for hours on end through the window. For most people, this would be seen as creepy, but since it was an activity Merope partook in herself, she didn't mind.

Tom drank it. He looked at her. She looked back. He ran towards her. She ran back. They kissed.

Merope was breathless with glee as they held onto each other. As if they would never let each other go. It was bright and perfect and so many words she couldn't think of. There was nothing she needed to think of. It was just her and Tom.

Normally, when people held onto her, it was rough. Painful. But Tom was smooth and safe and comforting and completely hers.

"I love you." Tom had spoken those words daily for the past few weeks. Merope would wait to hear them each day. She practically memorized how he said them.

She woke up everyday with a newfound energy. No longer was she constantly looking down at her feet or shrinking around other people. Instead, she was dancing on top of the world. It was easy to forget that Marvolo would be released from Azkaban soon.

"I love you too."

"I love you more than I can fathom. I...I…" And then Tom was on one knee and Merope was screaming a yes.

* * *

Merope had never really been involved in the gossip of Little Hangleton, knowing that most of it would be about her. But now she was craving for every word she could find.

The neighborhood was exploding about the wedding of Tom and Merope. Not in joy, but judgement. Cecilia in particular was quite shocked, much to Merope's amusement. Still, she dreaded the wedding, worried the others would attempt to ruin her and Tom's happily ever after. Then she would see her soon to be husband and every frightful feeling would go away.

Now, it was her wedding day. She was getting married. To Tom Riddle. Her wedding dress was tattered and greying, but her Tom, who loved her unconditionally, wouldn't mind.

The wedding was intended to be a private affair, but that didn't stop the entirety of Little Hangleton from coming to watch. Everyone was peering at the groom.

Tom. Beaming at her. Loving her. Marrying her. He was hers and she was his. They would start a family together. They would be so happy. She would never have to face Marvolo and Morfin again.

She could feel the stares of everyone else piercing into her skin. But it didn't matter. She pulled Tom into the kiss that would now unite them. She didn't let go for awhile.

Deep down, she still had the inkling that she would wake up leaning against the window and find that it had all been a dream. Yet even though this was real, it did have one thing in common with a dream. It was soon to end.


	4. Dubiety

Merope had spent the entire journey home dreading writing the letter, yet the moment she was around parchment, the thoughts practically spilled out of her.

In the midst of her excitement, she had to hesitate. As much as she wanted to detail every joyous emotion she'd been feeling for the few hours she'd married Tom, she knew she could not. Marvolo would not enjoy her happiness and would try to squish it.

Now, panic began to rise in her chest. Should she even write the letter at all? What if Marvolo came after her? She'd worked so hard to build this fantasy, she could not watch it crumble.

Eventually, she calmed herself. If he didn't know what she'd done, Marvolo would definitely go after her. Knowing that she was in a relationship with a Muggle, he would likely decide to never utter her name again, much less try and find her.

Merope began to write, explaining the story in full detail, her grip tightened. She didn't want to mention love potion she'd used on him...well, Marvolo didn't need to know that. She would just write that she and Tom fell madly in love. That was how it happened, right?

"Something wrong?"

She looked up. Tom was standing over her shoulder. For a second, she jumped into a defensive stance, but Tom would not hurt her. He was just running his fingers through her hair.

"Nothing," she replied. "I'm just...writing something."

"You shouldn't be worried, love. We're going to live together, after all."

Merope grinned at the thought. She and Tom were going to leave their homes behind and live in London. She could have never dreamed of affording it, but Tom had enough money. She was sure he wouldn't mind having to leave his family behind.

She finally finished the letter. She could already predict the disgust Marvolo would feel upon reading her words. He would be so ashamed of her. But she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Merope finally stood up, brushing away any apprehension she felt.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

They kissed again and all her worries were wiped away.

* * *

The house wasn't in the greatest condition, but it was decent enough. A bed that wasn't crawling with dirt and bugs, floor boards that weren't creaking the moment they felt any pressure. The pots and pans that wouldn't earn her a beating when they were dropped.

Oh goodness. This was it. This was her new home. She was never going back to Marvolo or Morfin again. She was completely free.

She stood there, rooted to the spot as burning water flooded her eyes. She ran her hands across her arms, feeling the bumps and scars that would never be added onto.

This was her new life. And she wouldn't give it away for anything.

The next day, Merope was frightened of getting out of bed. Surely what was happening was nothing more than a dream. She didn't want it to end. She never wanted it to end.

Then she heard a soft groan. There was someone beside her. It was Tom. Her husband. She was married. She was a witch. She had powerful and love and bliss.

The perfect dream went on, getting better with each day. It was rather idyllic, but she loved the routine so much, she didn't mind repeating it again and again.

She and Tom would wake up, he would declare his love for her each morning, she would cook and clean of her own free will, she would cast spells and brew potions without fear of anyone screaming down on her.

And of course, the most important part. Every morning, she would serve him breakfast and a glass of water bubbling with a love potion. It was somewhat of a tradition, since it was a glass of water that brought them together.

How romantic.

Merope prepared herself for the morning, mentally listing all the tasks she needed to get done today, when she stopped.

It was so peaceful in here. The outside world was brutal and cold, but she and Tom had no need of it. They could remain in this safe haven together for the rest of their lives if they so desired

And Merope planned to keep it that way.

* * *

The fumes of the love potion were familiar to her now as she prepared the cup. She placed it on the tray along with breakfast.

"Tom, time to eat!" she announced as she entered the room. Immediately, she froze. The table was deserted.

"Tom?" she called. She'd been in a mellow state for so long that the rush of panic she'd felt daily once before was unfamiliar. "Tom!" The edges of her vision seemed to be darkening. Where was he? He was supposed to be right here, obediently awaiting her. She hadn't been able to give him the potion in awhile…

"TOM!" she screamed. She frantically dropped the tray and heard more shouting in her mind. She scooped the potion up and scrambled to search the house.

Where was he? Where was he? What if he'd already left? Surely it couldn't have completely worn out by now. There had to still be a little bit. _Where was Tom?_

Veins popping, she stumbled out into the backyard and saw Tom leaning beside a faded tree.

Relief flooded through her, but she still demanded, "What are you _doing?_ "

"I was just going for a walk," he replied half heartedly.

Going for a walk? _Going for a walk?_ Her chest was rattling as she snapped, "Why?" She hoped the fury in her voice would disguise the fear. Since when did Tom go on walks without her? Since when did he not obsessively stay by her side?

"Yes, what's the problem?"

"It...it…" She sighed, clutching her stomach. He was still here. It was alright. "Nothing, my apologies. Just...have a glass of water."

"Oh, it's alright. I had a glass of milk this morning."

Since when did he eat without her?

"Well, that's sweet and all, but you should really drink your water."

"I don't need it," he insisted. "Why are you-" He paused. As if he had been drowning, and was now breaking the surface. His eyes flooded with awareness.

Oh no.

"Drink the water Tom," she urged, her hand rattling.

He wasn't looking at her but instead staring at the area with observation and...and…

 _He won't love me anymore._

Merope couldn't bear to even consider the possibility. Desperation tugged her muscles forward and she lunged, practically forcing the water down Tom's throat.

She was heaving as she faced him, pleading that if had worked…

Tom looked up at her and concern spread over his face. "Merope, are you alright?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I am now."

But she hadn't forgotten. That had been too close. It was happening much more frequently now. Tom's eyes would narrow with suspicion and she would frantically give him whatever she could. Then she would watch his expression do change to one of love. Fake love.

She found herself attempting to brew Amortentia, only to scream and tear her hair out. She was being crushed underneath something and she couldn't push it off. Something kept gnawing at her and she didn't know what

How was she supposed to solve this if she didn't even know why she was upset?

But as she struggled to get her aching hands to brew the potion she'd practically memorized at this point, she finally knew what was slowly destroying her.

It was guilt.


	5. Conniption

**Has it really been two months? Oops. I retreated off of this website for awhile and I genuinely forgot this one existed. I couldn't bear to leave a story unfinished with only two chapters left, so here we are. My apologies.**

* * *

Merope Gaunt was pregnant.

She hadn't really remembered finding out. A raging wave of emotions had slammed into her before melting into a numb river. She was pregnant. She as going to have a baby.

She and _Tom_ were going to have a baby.

Merlin.

It had been quite awhile since she'd found out, and she was just now deciphering how she felt. She had managed to put it in the back of her mind and walk through life without a care in the world. But the baby bump was becoming more and more visible, the symptoms and cravings throwing themselves at her all at once. Every minute of every day she would remember. _Baby._ She was having a baby.

At first, she was elated. In a way, she still was. Her life with Tom, though it was the most precious thing she'd ever had, was becoming repetitive. But now, they were going to have a child. She was going to be a mother.

But then she thought of Marvolo and Morfin. Every day, they would stand over her, leering at how pathetic she was. She'd been born in a castle, but they had quickly dragged her into the dungeons. And even when she was locked down there with nothing less, they would hit her and shout at her and tear her apart, brick by brick.

And it was all her fault, wasn't it? She was a filthy stain on their family line. She deserved to pay for what she had done. Just her existence was-

"Merope?"

Tom's voice was like a glimmer of gold. He stared up at her, concerned. "You've been quiet. Are you alright?"

She tried not to think about how fake it all was.

"I'm always quiet." Her voice cracked as she tried for humor, flashing a smile that even she could tell was broken.

Tom wrapped an arm around her. He was so warm. After years of wandering around alone, he was the shelter that she could always crawl into while the storm raged outside. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"No…" she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Besides…" He squeezed her hand. "We're going to start a family."

It only made her feel worse.

Truthfully, she hadn't known that a relationship between a parent and their child was supposed be different than what she had. They were supposed to always be there and listen whenever the child needed a friendly ear. Any arguments they had only stemmed from how much they cared.

Merope had just assumed she didn't have that relationship because she didn't deserve one. And maybe she still didn't. But her child did. And she could give him what she never had. She could mend the mistakes of her family to the best of her ability.

Yes, she should have been happy. But she just couldn't do it. Something was destroying her, and it was the very thing she thought made her life better.

Tom. She looked at him, as he went about his regular day with her with that smile on his face. He looked at her as if just being in her presence was the greatest gift he could ever have. Their story was perfect. The wealthy man who had given most everything up to be with the girl he loved.

Except it was all a lie.

The thoughts pounded in her head all the time. She woke up the next day, contemplating the tales she had heard throughout her life. Of how love was pure and untainted. Could she say that about her Tom?

A week later, she was stirring another supply of Amortentia. Why was it that other people could get their spouses to stay with them, but she needed this potion to keep hers?

A month later, she almost dropped the tray of food she was carrying. Tom was looking at her with that lovestruck smile and said those words. "I love you." The words that sounded the same every time. They never changed. He never changed. He never acted like the boy she had fallen in love with all those ages ago. He was just wandering around blindly, repeating those words. "I love you, I love you, I love you." Like a practiced speech he needed to give. Not like a real declaration. One that was perfect and insane and beautiful.

Just once, she wanted to hear the words from his own lips. And not because of a love potion. Because of her own personality. Because he loved the girl who had been hated by everyone else.

The realization hit her as she was working on stirring more Amortentia. She had wanted a beautiful reality and had ended up falling into a deceiving fantasy.

Helplessness slammed into her. Why could she never get anything? Why did she always have to fail?

But…maybe she hadn't failed. Maybe there was still an entrance open to that beautiful reality. After all, Tom had been with her for such a long time now. People had always stayed away from her due to her appearance and family, but since he'd been around her for so long, surely he had started to love her. Surely he had started to feel _something._

And if he hadn't, well, he would have at least become friends with her. Since she was going to have his own child, he would be noble enough to stay with her for the sake of their baby. At the very worst, he would move out, but still visit to support her.

And at the very best, he would have fallen in love with her. They could push aside their rocky start and become a family. And the words "I love you" would be genuine…

Yes, her resolve was made. Tomorrow morning, Tom would receive his daily glass of water.

And there would be no Amortentia inside it.

* * *

Merope didn't watch it happen. She knew staying away would probably make everything worse, but she didn't want to be there. After serving Tom, she retreated away to a lone corner of the house.

She tried to find _something_ to occupy herself with, but her brain was flying about and couldn't be pulled down. What if Tom was upset with her? What if he'd never truly love her?

 _What if he left?_

No, no. She couldn't think like that. Her worries wouldn't come to fruition. At the very worst, he'd only stay for the baby.

She spent hours trapped in her mind before it happened.

"Merope?"

Merope tried desperately to pretend she didn't hear the lace of anger hiding in the word. Instead, she forced herself to stand up.

"Tom…"

She finally found him, standing in the center of the room where they had once sat together, declaring their love and devotion.

He didn't look as angry as he sounded. He was shaking, his eyes bleary but alert, as if he'd been woken up on the middle of the night by a strange sound.

"Y-you…" His lip quivered. "Who are you? Where am I? Wh-what…"

Merope tried to say something, but nothing but empty air came out.

"I...I was going to...but no…" He threw his head in hands, nearly prying the hair off his scalp. "I-I married you. But we-I would never _-_ "

He looked up at her, and the helpless terror of a lost child melted into rage.

"What did you _do_ to me?"

"T-Tom." She barely heard what she was saying. "I-I…" She has thought of a thousand ways to explain beforehand, but all of it had been swept away.

"Tell me."

"I will," she breathed. She didn't know what to say or what to do, but Tom was staring down at her as if he was trying to burn a hole through her. She couldn't stand it.

"Tom, you remember correctly. You and I, we're married. We live together. We're happy."

The words did nothing to steady Tom, who took a shuddering breath. "Married," he repeated dryly. "Why would I marry you? You're poor, disgusting, you come from that family-"

Merope stopped listening. She'd heard those words before, but not from Tom. Never from Tom.

"But you did. You did, Tom." She wasn't even sure she was directing the sentence at him anymore. "You chose _me._ "

"Liar," he snapped. "Tell me what you did."

"Tom, please," she said, her voice growing higher. "We're going to start a family. Together."

It should have brought him hope. It should have solidified his decision to stay. It did none of that. Horror dawned on his face as he clutched his head. "I remember-the baby-I-"

He faced her, looking more livid than ever. "I wouldn't marry you. I would never marry you. Why-"

" _It was a potion!_ " Merope felt sobs marching up her throat. He was yelling and yelling and she just wanted him to stop. "I g-gave you a potion…"

His eyes narrowed. A flash of fear sliced through them. "A _potion?_ "

"Y-yes." She shut her eyes as cries racked through her body. "But it...the potion was just awakening your feelings. It was, I promise."

When she opened her eyes, Tom had shrank against the wall. "I thought those memories had to be fake. That's not possible…" A piercing glare. " _Witch._ "

He said the word with such venom. Merope found herself stumbling. "No. It's not… I can do good things! I-I can show you!" She was running towards her wand when she felt herself trip. Falling to the ground, she looked up and saw Tom standing over her. Like she couldn't do anything right. Like she was pathetic…

No, no. Marvolo and Morfin looked at her like that, and she'd accepted it. But not Tom. Not her Tom, who'd stared at her with a gentle tenderness, who'd told her every day. _I love you._

That Tom was gone. As if he never existed. He took one stony look at her, one filled with such loathing that it made her shiver, and then turned away without a word.

"Please. I'm going to have your baby. You at least owe me-"

" _Owe you?_ " Tom snarled as he whirled back around to face her, his fists clenched, his body throbbing from rage. "You took away my life, you took away my free will. I owe you nothing."

He turned away again. Merope was so dizzy, it didn't even occur to her what he was doing until he'd already made it to the door.

 _He's leaving me._

"Tom," she whimpered. "You love me."

He didn't face her.

"Tom." Her voice shattered. "You love me. _You love me._ "

"You are a monster. A maniac. And I will never love you."

He walked out the door.

Merope fell to her knees.


	6. Desolated

Life descended into an abyss after that.

At least, that was how Merope assumed it must have been. She was numb to the sensation of falling. She had become numb to most everything, really.

That first morning, she hadn't believed it. She opened her eyes and immediately felt how cold the bed was. A vague sense of wrongness expanded in her chest, but still she told herself that Tom must have woken up early.

She thought of getting up but the idea of not finding him there was too much. So she shut her eyes, wishing that she could stay frozen in this moment forever. Always telling herself that Tom has simply woken up early, never having to get up and see the truth….

The bed was starting to become firm underneath her now, to the point where her back was beginning to beg her to get up. She didn't listen.

Hours stretched by. At least, she thought they did. She had no idea how long it had been. Her stomach let out a frustrated growl. She ignored it.

Her senses quieted down. For a moment, she couldn't tell whether her eyes were open or not. Her stomach had long since given up on protesting and had just settled into a hollow emptiness. A trickle of pain had started to form, but she only swallowed. She was not getting up now.

It was only a few minutes later that the pain bloomed like a poisonous flower. As if her stomach was being swiped with claws. It wasn't just her that desired food, it was another living being inside of her.

She would've stayed if she could, but eventually the feeling of desperate fire became too much.

Merope didn't exactly feel herself getting out of bed. One minute she was lying there, and the next minute she was stumbling through the hall. Her head pounded, the impact heightened with every step she took. After an agonizing journey, she found herself in the living room.

It was completely empty.

"Tom?"

Her voice seemed to echo against the walls. Nobody replied.

"Tom…?"

He couldn't have left. He couldn't have. He had to come back. Where was he? He had to come back, he had to come back.

"Tom?" She began a mad dash throughout the house. Her body was aching for rest, but she refused to listen.

Empty, empty. Every room was empty. It was as if she was running through a maze and she couldn't find the exit.

She found herself in the living room again. Still empty.

 _No, no… I must have missed something._

She raced through the house again. Throwing every door open, checking every crevice she could find. There was no one.

Her adrenaline was racing, so much so that she barely noticed she was back in the living room again.

"Tom. Where are you? _Where are you?_ "

Her cries echoed back to her, as mocking how utterly alone she was.

 _He left. He really did. He left and he's never coming back._

Merope collapsed and fell to the floor. She didn't feel any pain.

* * *

It was all a blur after that.

She spent the next few months remaining in her bed. Every single day her heart would be crushed when she realized she was the only one sleeping in it. She never got used to it no matter how many times it happened.

Sometimes, magic would whisper to her from across the room. Her wand, craving a master.

And every time, she would look away. Magic hadn't helped her, had it? Even then, she didn't think she could if she true. Just looking at it, she could hear Marvolo and Morfin's shouting in her head.

Sometimes, she wished that she were still with them. Better to have lived a life of despair than being given a glimmer of hope and losing it forever.

She did get up occasionally. To support herself. Or when the emptiness of the bed became too much to bear. She didn't remember those moments very well. She sold a locket at one point. It didn't matter to her.

She ate, but only at the command of her baby. Without him, the energy needed to get up would have been too much.

Her baby. Her and _Tom's_ baby.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't completely smother the resentment crawling in her chest. Her son was supposed to stop Tom from leaving. He was supposed to make him stay. He was supposed to be a symbol of their love. But he had only frightened Tom away. He had only given her a reason to keep going when all she wanted to do was stop.

She couldn't wait for the child to leave her. Then she was free to do whatever she wanted. Then she was freely to let all the abuse she'd put her body through finally destroy it.

It was around the final month that she thought of doing the opposite. Maybe she could eat normally. Maybe she could use magic to heal herself. Maybe she could let herself live. Maybe she could let her son have a mother.

Or maybe she would forever be tormented by having to take care of the mirror image of her Tom. Maybe he would only turn out worse with her as a mother. Maybe he wouldn't be worth it. He'd failed her before, hadn't he?

It just wasn't worth it.

* * *

For the past few months, Merope Gaunt had been numb to any kind of physical pain.

Now, it scorched through her, melting away any will she had left. Her skin seemed to be torn off over over again. The desperation to make it stop had sent her racing through the evening streets.

When Merope had imagined giving birth, she'd pictured Tom guiding her outside, holding her hand and smiling through years of joy at the thought of the child they were going to have.

Instead, Merope was alone, stumbling up the steps of an old orphanage and screaming for anybody to hear.

In the midst of the chaos, she could feel arms tugging her forward. A sharp face swam into view, murmuring words she could barely identify.

"Hello? Hello, what's your name?"

Merope swallowed heavily as she was half dragged towards a bed. The face, an old woman with strong hands, set her down and peered down at her worriedly.

"M-Merope," she whimpered.

The woman stared down at her. "Is there anyone with you?"

"N-no," she choked. The baby was coming out. And soon after, she was going to die. There was no question about it. Her body had been weakened enough. This would be the final straw.

"L-listen," she breathed. "Name him-name him Tom." At least the memory of her beloved Tom would live on in this child. "Tom Marvolo Riddle…" She didn't want to use the name of her father, but under all this strain, it was the only one she could think of.

What followed was a blur. Merope's body had grown so fragile she was sure she'd passed out more than once. And then her child was born.

Seeing her son for the first time should have brought her to joyful tears. She should have felt the whole world had opened up, as if it had always been black and white and was now bathed in color.

But she was barely paying attention to the baby, too busy focusing on the life that was gradually seeping out of her. She couldn't tell if she still held him or is the woman had picked him up or anything.

She shut her eyes tight. Tom's face appeared against her eyelids, perfect down to each detail. He had the smile on his face that he'd had every time he said " _I love you._ "

"I hope…" she croaked. "I hope he looks like his f-father…"

Whether anyone could hear her, she didn't know. Her eyes remained closed, her voice drowning in her throat. White noise pounded through her ears, just barely allowing the small sound of a child crying to enter.

Maybe he would never learn of what happened to his mother and father. Maybe, instead of his new family mercilessly taunting him and tearing him down, they would hug him and hold his hand at night. Remind him every day that he mattered. Never let him think that he didn't matter.

And maybe he'd find someone beautiful. Someone who would have chosen him willingly. Who would protect him no matter what his flaws were.

Maybe he could have the life that she never had.

The dizziness swept away, replaced with nothing. Gradually, all of her senses sank away. She couldn't hear or see or feel. She was floating, weightlessly through the air. Yet still, it felt like there was something above her. Every insult, every beating, every burden she'd had to beat. Every bit of pain.

Merope could see no point in fighting it anymore. There was just one last thought it her as it crushed her.

 _All I wanted was to be loved._


End file.
